Page:The Dialogues of Plato v. 2.djvu/170

163  Analysis 80-85. '^3 for ages by the embalmer's art : how unhkely, then, that the soul Phaedo. will perish and be dissipated into air while on her way to the Analysis. good and wise God ! She has been gathered into herself, holding Si aloof from the body, and practising death all her life long, and she is now finally released from the errors and follies and passions of men, and for ever dwells in the company of the gods. But the soul which is polluted and engrossed by the corporeal, and has no eye except that of the senses, and is weighed down by the bodily appetites, cannot attain to this abstraction. In her fear of the world below she lingers about the sepulchre, loath to leave the body which she loved, a ghostly apparition, saturated with sense, and therefore visible. At length entering into some 82 animal of a nature congenial to her former life of sensuality or violence, she takes the form of an ass, a wolf or a kite. And of these earthly souls the happiest are those who have practised virtue without philosophy ; they are allowed to pass into gentle and social natures, such as bees and ants. (Cp. Rep. x. 619 C, Meno 100 A.) But only the philosopher who departs pure is permitted to enter the company of the gods. (Cp. Phaedrus 249.) This is the reason why he abstains from fleshly lusts, and not because he fears loss or disgrace, which is the motive of other 83 men. He too has been a captive, and the willing agent of his own captivity. But philosophy has spoken to him, and he has heard her voice ; she has gently entreated him, and brought him out of the ' miry clay,' and purged away the mists of passion and the illusions of sense which envelope him ; his soul has escaped from the influence of pleasures and pains, which are like nails 84 fastening her to the body. To that prison-house she will not return; and therefore she abstains from bodily pleasures— not from a desire of having more or greater ones, but because she knows that only when calm and free from the dominion of the body can she behold the light of truth. Simmias and Cebes remain in doubt ; but they are unwilling to raise objections at such a time. Socrates wonders at their reluctance. Let them regard him rather as the swan, who, 85 having sung the praises of Apollo all his life long, sings at his death more lustily than ever. (Cp. 60 D.) Simmias acknow- ledges that there is cowardice in not probing truth to the bottom. ' And if truth divine and inspired is not to be had, then let a man M 2